


Insane

by missafairy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23803147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missafairy/pseuds/missafairy
Summary: this story takes place after Ouroboros, Michael didn’t escape from Dean’s mind, he has been trapped there for far too long and Dean is losing his mind.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Insane

**Author's Note:**

> written for @katehuntington's !k follower challenge (tumblr), based on a song "Insane" by Kensington

Title: Insane

Author: missafairy

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Rating: Mature

Tags/Warnings: canon typical stuff, mentions of Michael!Dean

Dean was in Rocky’s bar again, standing there alone as he looked around, the flickering lights causing a painful migraine. His back was pressed against the door and he could feel Michael’s punches from behind the metal.

“I know you’re there, let me out!” Michael roared, making Dean flinch at that sound. He almost wanted to comply, his voice sounded in his brain like a command his body had to follow. It was so strange for him to listen to screams that seemed to be his own. It was like he was no longer able to tell apart Michael’s voice from his own muffled screams of distress. Dean had to be strong. In fact he had to be stronger than ever, but he was too tired to fight any longer.

“You think you can keep me trapped forever?”

“No. No, I don’t,” Dean muttered, knowing that even if he tried he wouldn’t be able to. He used to say ‘yes’ every time until now..

“Well finally you’re getting smarter,” Dean heard the snarky voice sound from the other side of the door and prepared himself for another punch. This one was stronger than the previous ones, as if Dean’s confession gave Michael new hope for getting out.

“I’m stronger than this,” Dean whispered, closing his eyes. “I’m stronger than this,” he repeated, trying to think of Sam and of you – trying to remind himself who he had to be strong for. And then he felt it. The rage, hatred.

“LET ME OUT!” Dean heard the voice waking him up and his eyes opened wide, seeing nothing but darkness. Panicking, he moved his arms to his chest, relieved that his body listened to him. He took a deep breath, trying to remember where he was, but incoherent thoughts were racing through his brain.

To say that he was a mess was an understatement. The constant pounding in his head and the fear of letting the archangel out were crushing him. Also, the perspective of spending an eternity with Michael in a Ma’lac’s box at the bottom of the fucking Pacific Ocean was not very comforting. Strangely, not even holding you in his arms was comforting as if Michael, even now, was able to tell him how to feel. In fact, Dean was pretty sure that some of his emotions weren’t exactly his. Besides hearing Michael pounding at the door, despite hearing him yell and cry out with fury, Dean was afraid he was also able to feel what he felt. The unstoppable rage. Dean could feel it when the noise in his head became unbearable, when the door holding Michael started quivering, only moments before Dean could shove it all back inside, there it was. Rage, madness that Dean couldn’t recognize as his own.

It was the middle of the night and you were laying in bed with Dean, staring into the darkness, when you felt Dean jerked awake behind you. You had to remind yourself why. You kept forgetting about Michael. You wondered why you felt like it was over. You knew it wasn’t. Naturally, Dean having Michael locked up in his mind was a solution, but it was only temporary. Seeing him as Michael had driven you crazy and you were beyond relieved when Sam and Cas brought Dean back. Back from... wherever he was, drowning in his own mind, stuck in a happy memory that hadn’t even happened. Maybe knowing that Michael had no longer Dean under his control, feeling Dean’s strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you tightly to his trembling body made you think that this fight was won. You felt a tender kiss on your temple and his warm body moved away from yours.

“Where are you going?” you whispered, your eyes trying to see his face in the dark room.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. If he had known you were awake he would have had an excuse ready.

“You’ll let me out, I know you will!”

He was exhausted and needed some sleep, but he couldn’t. Not with Michael trapped in his mind, not with the love of his life in bed right next to him when the door could give in any minute. Dean knew that he would be a threat until he was buried in the Ma’lac box, but no-one wanted to help him with this plan. They were all looking for another way. They were all pretending that he wasn’t a time bomb, that they weren’t scared of Michael’s promise to kill them one by one before destroying this world. Hell, for the longest time Dean had been pretending that he wasn’t suffering from the overwhelming insanity.

“Dean!” you called out, turning on the small lamp. He stopped and turned around with a sigh.

“Yeah?” he asked, trying his best to ignore the rattle Michael caused in his head.

“I’ll go with you,” you said softly, but surely. You wrapped yourself in a blanket and walked up to Dean, ready to go wherever he would lead to, wanting to be with him in the distress that seemed to follow him around.

Dean closed his eyes and nodded lightly. This was exactly what he was trying to avoid. He wanted to be alone, well, as alone as he could be in this situation. But he didn’t say a word, not wanting to waste the energy on fighting with you. He had to keep his guard up for Michael. He let you follow him to the library, where he sat on a couch, leaning against some cushions.

“You’re giving up, I can feel it!”

He stood back up restlessly before you could take a seat beside him. Dean looked into your questioning eyes and then his gaze focused on his bare feet.

“He doesn’t let you sleep,” you guessed, taking Dean’s hands into yours.

“He’s shouting so loud,” Dean gasped and you could swear he could hear Michael in this moment.“I’m so tired!” He gritted.

“Try again,” you suggested, pulling Dean to the couch. You both sat down and you put one of the cushions on your lap for Dean to lie on. With his head placed safely in that spot, he closed his eyes and you struggled to cover him a little with the blanket you had wrapped yourself in.

“I’ll watch over you,” you promised and brushed his temple with your fingers as you watched him fall almost instantly into a restless sleep.

The knocking was becoming louder and louder. Michael was pounding at the door with such force that any normal door would have given in a long time ago. But this door was in Dean’s mind and he was the one making the rules. And rule number one said that Michael can’t escape. That was the only reason why the door was still holding, but each punch at the barrier was forceful and loud. And it was getting louder. Dean wondered why, but then he noticed that he was back in Rocky’s bar, angry, frustrated and upset. Walking towards the storage room, the banging seemed to hurt his ears more with each step, the strange emotions were taking over him. He couldn’t name them all, but they were burning in his chest, trying to suffocate him.

“LET ME GO!” Dean heard a deafening scream and Michael threw himself at the door once again.

“No!” Dean yelled angrily, sitting up on the couch, startling you so that you almost screamed yourself.

You were afraid to say something, worried that maybe, just maybe Dean wasn’t able to resist anymore.

“He keeps doing it!” Dean shouted and got up from the couch, throwing the cushion that had just been on your thighs as far as he could, knocking off a vase from a cupboard. “He never sleeps, never rests, never stops whacking the damn door and he won’t stop til I cave!”

“Calm down,” you pleaded, getting up from the couch slowly. Dean was leaning against a table and with one swift move he threw a dozen books to the floor. “Dean, please,” you said, your voice trembling as you hated seeing him like this, but at least you were sure it was him. “Please, I need you to be calm, okay?”

“Calm?!” he yelled. “You might be calm, but my head will explode, so I’m sorry if I’m not calm!” he shouted, facing you and you almost flinched. “You have no idea what it’s like,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “I don’t only feel him in my head anymore,” Dean sobbed. “I feel him everywhere!”

“Dean,” you started, but he didn’t let you finish.

“What?” he interrupted. “Do you want to tell me that I’m strong? I am, but guess what,” he said, taking a step towards you and you fought your instinct to take a step back with all you had. “He’s strong too,” Dean roared. “And he hates you,” he said with his teared up eyes glued to yours, making you feel shivers all over your body. “He hates you so much. Every time I stand outside that door and I try to stay strong and I think of you to hold onto something good... I can feel how much he wants to rip you into pieces,” Dean spat, not bothering to wipe the tears off his face. “And he would enjoy it!”

“I know you’re afraid he’ll hurt me, but-”

“I know how to stop it,” he urged.

“That box is not an option,” you said stubbornly, trying to look unfazed by what Dean had just told you.

“It is our only option,” he insisted. “Billie knows all endings,” he reminded you. “I’m out of the moves here! I know how to stop him and you won’t let me.”

“But she said they change!” you argued. “So it’s just a matter of time before we find another way and the ending changes again!” you said hopefully.

“I’m afraid we don’t have time,” he said bitterly. “I try to swallow it down, but it’s like a poison and no matter what I do I can’t shake this feeling that I’m gonna lose,” he confessed, his tone softer now and you finally found the courage to reach out for him. You touched his arm gently, your fingers moving around his bicep.

“I can only imagine the pain you’re in, but it won’t go away when you get locked in that box, just think about it!” you pleaded.

“It’s not the pain that breaks me down,” he whispered. “It’s that voice! I feel like I’m insane!”

“You’re not!” you opposed, but you knew where Dean’s fear was coming from. There were moments during the past few days when you thought he was losing it. He kept zoning out and he seemed to be talking to himself frequently when he thought no one could hear him.

“One minute I am...me and I love you and the other I feel his hatred and anger and... I’m afraid that soon I won’t be able to tell what’s real and what isn’t,” he gasped and you could see it in his eyes – the fear he had just told you about. “I barely can tell what’s real as it is.”

You wished you weren’t afraid of him, but the painful truth was that you were. Well, not of Dean, but of what could happen if he lost control. You were well aware that it was only a matter of time, that the coffin was the only plan you had so far and it scared you even more. Sure, he had survived all kinds of hell, including actual hell, but being trapped with a crazy archangel in a box for the whole eternity sounded worse than hell to you.

“I can help you,” you said quietly, not really knowing what else to do. “I can tell you what’s real,” you whispered, desperate for him to keep going.

“How would you know?” He asked, trying to provoke you. “Why do you think you know me that well?”

“You think I don’t?” you whispered, trying not to feel hurt by what he said. “After all those years you think I don’t know you?” You asked and Dean sighed, rubbing his temples. “You love me,” you said, “and because you love me you’re afraid he could hurt me. Those are your feelings, Dean. They are real.”

“Oh come on, but you do hate her a little. She’s not letting you use that coffin, right? Maybe she wants me out there?”

“Yes,” he gasped, interrupting Michael’s monologue. “They’re mine,” he agreed. “But... but what if I do hate you a little?” he asked brokenly, trying to look at you even though his vision was blurred.

“He hates me,” you told him slowly, “he, not you, remember?”

“Right, he hates you, I love you,” he repeated and let out a ragged breath. “It’s confusing,” he whispered and you felt his hands slip into yours. “Because his voice is my voice,” he said and you nodded.

“It is,” you agreed, squeezing his hands.

“I’m afraid we’re waiting too long,” he gasped and you took a small step towards him, closing the gap between the two of you.

“Just a little longer,” you pleaded and he nodded, seeking comfort in your arms. You pulled him to you, resting your head on his aching chest.

He knew he was hugging you. He knew he was in the library, in the bunker with you in his arms. But he couldn’t stop thinking about why that voice was there too. It seemed like he was unable to run away from it, to block it like he used to do. A voice that wasn’t his saying things he would never think of. Dean couldn’t feel you in his arms anymore, but he couldn’t remember when he let go of you.

“She wants me out, she makes you wait too long-”

“Stop it!” Dean blurted out and your brows furrowed in confusion. He held you at arms length, not letting you move closer.

“What?”

“What?” he asked and froze, looking into your eyes.

“Stop what?” you wondered and Dean’s entire body trembled, his terrified expression gave you a pretty good idea what he was so scared of.

“I think we’ve ran out of time,” he whispered, letting you go to wrap his arms around him, involuntarily forming a cage around his body and you choked on a sob. “Please... wake Sammy up.”


End file.
